


Bonus day: Tea Shop

by cincilin



Series: Zutara smut week 2017 [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Zutara Smut Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-28 20:04:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11425188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cincilin/pseuds/cincilin
Summary: "Hello and welcome to the Jasmine Dragon. Today's special is—" he cut himself of with a sharp intake of breath, at the same moment that Katara placed the voice and looked up.'He has hair.' was her first thought. Then the rest of her brain caught up with her and she started to get up, sending Momo scrambling to hide under the table.Season 2 AU, during "The Guru", messes around with the timeline a bit, and with Upper Ring architecture.





	Bonus day: Tea Shop

**Author's Note:**

> Written for @zutarasmutweek 2017, was actually the first fic I wrote. I was gonna wait until I did all of the other and then post this one, but, hahahahahaaaaaah, punctual I am not.  
> Also, special shout out to @zukocrownprinceofthefirenation and @themomentofdavyprentiss for helping me out and providing moral support.

"What do you say, Momo? A cup of tea before we get back to the King?" Momo chattered in answer so Katara made her way into the tea shop.

"Table for two, please." she said. The hostess bowed and turned to lead her in.

The inside was lavishly decorated, all in warm greens and golds. There was a tea server with his back turned to her, and an old man behind the counter. The hostess walked her to a table by a paper screen and said how someone will be with her promptly. Katara sat down and Momo settled in her lap.

"Hello and welcome to the Jasmine Dragon. Today's special is—" he cut himself of with a sharp intake of breath, at the same moment that Katara placed the voice and looked up.

 _'H_ _e has hair_ _.'_  was her first thought. Then the rest of her brain caught up with her and she started to get up, sending Momo scrambling to hide under the table.

A hot hand on her shoulder stopped her. She could feel her face shifting from shock to rage but as her hands flew to her waterskin, he said, "Wait! Just... Wait!" his voice was hushed, but undercut with a note of desperation.

"If you think I'm just gonna let you—"

"I get it."

"Oh, I  _really_  think you don't!"

"Look, just please—"

"Server! Another jasmine!" the voice cut through their conversation like a knife. Zuko turned to the direction it came from, said "Coming right up!" then turned back towards her.

"Just wait here. Please. I can explain."

"What?" her eyebrows went up, "How you are here to capture the Avatar and restore your 'Honor'?" She made air quotes around 'Honor'.

He gave her a dirty look, "You don't know what you're talking about."

Katara crossed her arms and sniffed. "I highly doubt that."

"Server!" another customer called.

"Lee!" yelled the old man, "What are you doing?"

"Just a second!" Zuko yelled back, then much more quietly said to her, "Look just—just wait until rush hour is over. Just that much? Please?" and there was  _something_  there, Katara thought. He really sounded like he was pleading. Like she held his life in her hands and was threatening to squeeze. Frowning deeply, and against every shred of good sense she had, Katara gave the tiniest of nods.

The look of relief that went over his face wasn't something she was prepared for. The beginnings of a smile, until he remembered himself, even less.

When he ran off, Katara settled, Momo finding his way back into her lap, and became determined not to let him out of her sight. She saw him take customers' orders and serve them tea and the go up to the old man behind the counter—and she cannot believe she didn't recognize his uncle. He looked her way, she saw his eyes widen in recognition, and then had a rushed, whispered conversation with his nephew. Katara frowned even more and reached under the table to uncork her waterskin. A kettle squealed and the old man, Iroh, Katara remembered, turned to it, while Zuko went back to serving customers.

 _'W_ _ell, whatever they're up to, they're not gonna do it in front of all these people._ _N_ _ot now_ _and_ _not here_ _,'_  she thought.

A pot of tea clicked on the table in front of her, Zuko's hand on its handle. He had an extremely sour look on his face. "Today's special: Uncle's jasmine blend," his face soured even further, "on the house." he poured her a cup.

Katara pursed her lips, "What's it poisoned with?"

Zuko's jaw dropped, " _P_ _oisoned?_ " he said in an incredulous voice, " _U_ _ncle_  made that."

"Oh," she rolled her eyes,"because that's just so reassuring."

"Uncle would never!"

"Yeah, right."

Zuko stared at her and she could see his mouth working like he just couldn't even say anything for the outrage. If the situation were happening to anyone else, she would've laughed. Then he picked up her cup and drowned it in one go.

"See?" he shoved the empty cup in her face, "Perfectly safe!"

"Oh, yeah, very reassuring." she pushed his hand away and glared, "Poison drinking poison."

The hurt that flashed across his face surprised her.

"Fine." he turned to leave, "Do what you want."

"Get me a new cup."

"What?" he threw over his shoulder.

"Get me a new cup." she raised her nose, "I don't want one with your spit anywhere near it."

Zuko gave her a grimace, but less than a minute later placed a pristine white cup in front of her. Didn't pour for her, though.

Katara settled in her chair, trying to make herself as comfortable as possible. Seeing that he could again have her attention, Momo climbed to her shoulder and nuzzled against her face. At least she had company while waiting rush hour out.

Except rush hour never seemed to end. People kept coming and going and singing Iroh praises (fully deserved) and giving Zuko, or rather Zuko's scar, sympathetic looks (fully undeserved).

Soon enough, sundown came and the hosts started turning people away, they were closing soon.

Finally, Zuko turned towards her, looking determined, but then a well dressed man, Katara assumed the owner, called him off to take out the trash.

Next thing she knew, the only people in the tea shop were Iroh and she.

He smiled at her, "Did you enjoy the tea?"

"Pardon?" because, everything else aside, Katara had never been rude to her elders.

"The tea. Did you enjoy it?"

"It was..." she started uncertainly, then decided that there's no harm in admitting to this, "It was the best tea I've ever had."

Iroh's smile widened until he was practically beaming at her and, really,  _how_  were they related?

"Uncle, where did you put the broom?" came Zuko's voice from somewhere behind them, "I have to sweep up the—"

The reality of the situation came crashing down on her. What had she been  _thinking_? They were alone. Zuko, she could take, but the two of them, together? _'S_ _tupid_ _,_ _stupid_ _,_ _stu_ _—'_

Before she could fully fall into a panic, Iroh let out a big yawn and said, "Well, it is time for these old bones to get some rest. Lee," he patted his nephew on the shoulder, "lock up when you're done. And Miss," he turned to her and smiled good-naturedly, "I do hope I will have an opportunity to brew you another pot sometime soon."

Without waiting for her to react, he bowed to her, nodded at Zuko and turned to leave.

Zuko blinked a few times, as if he needed a moment to process what had just happened, "Wait Uncle!" he spun to chase after Iroh, "You can't just—"

"Some things, my dear Nephew," Iroh said not turning back, "are far better heard from peers."

"But—!" Zuko stepped in front of him.

"Oh!" Iroh exclaimed and brought his hands to his stomach, " My old bones! How they creak! Oh!" now he lifted the back of his hand to his forehead and turned so that Katara could see his face, Zuko followed, "My joints!"

Between the ensuing moans and groans, he threw her a wink over Zuko's shoulder and promptly left.

Katara bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing but when Zuko buried his face in his hands and gave a noise like, "Ghnghh!" she stopped trying.

The look he gave her for that was positively murderous.

Katara just raised an eyebrow, "Well?"

"Well what?" his voice was muffled by his palms.

"Well you said you 'can explain'." she made air quotes at that.

Zuko sighed, "I still have to sweep up."

"Do it after." she crossed her arms,"I've been here the whole day."

"No," Zuko said, " _I_ _'_ _ve_  been here the whole day— _working_.  _You_  came in the early afternoon, and sat around, and glared at me, and drank tea." he frowned, "For free, too."

She opened her mouth to retort, but he was already walking away and reaching for the broomstick.

"I could just go and report you, you know!"

Zuko merely hmm-ed at that. Like he thought her threat to be completely empty. And it was, Katara realized with a scowl. She had grown curious, about this new calm, serene Zuko. About this Zuko that seemed completely content here in this tea shop. This Zuko who couldn't seem to comprehend how someone could think badly of his Uncle.

So she sat and played with her empty cup, while he methodically swiped from the counter towards the door.

At the entrance, he shook out the dustbin, the broom, then placed them in the nearest corner. His back was turned to her but she could see him straighten himself out, as if gathering courage.

The thought that  _Z_ _uko_ , the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation, had to steel himself to face her, filled her with smugness down to her toes. She tried to not let it show, but if his expression was anything to go by, she failed spectacularly.

He pulled out the chair across from her, waking Momo up, making him scramble away, then sat.

They stared one at another.

Katara sighed, "Well?"

"'Well' what?" he crossed his arms. sounded petulant.

She threw her arms up, couldn't  _believe_  him. " _W_ _ell,_  explain!" she pointed at him, "Why are you here?" pointed at the table, "How did you get here?" waved her arm, "And into a tea shop?" waived it some more, "In the Upper Ring?" she rose from her chair, "And most importantly," she leaned over him, got into his face, doing her best to loom, "How do you intend to prove to me that you are not a threat to Aang?"

Zuko seemed to be doing his best to sink into his chair, but he glared right back.

Katara sat again, lifted her chin as far as she could and said, "But it would be best if you started from the beginning."

"Well," he licked his lips, "I was born during the reign of Fire Lord Azulon, in the year—"

"Raagh!" she slammed her hands on the table.

The tea set rattled and Zuko seemed utterly unimpressed.

"Just..." she waived her hand around a bit, "Just start with what happened after Azula hurt your Uncle."

When she said that, his scowl faltered and a look of immense guilt and discomfort replaced it. Katara, soft-heart she is, took pity, "Fine. Start with how you managed to get into Ba Sing Se."

"By ferry."

She cocked an eyebrow, "How'd you get passports?"

"Uncle has some weird friends."

 _T_ _hat_ _,_  she had no trouble believing at all. "Alright. And how'd you get into the Upper Ring?"

" _A_ _pparently,_  Uncle's tea is just that good."

Katara narrowed her eyes, "' _A_ _pparently?_ _'_ "

At that, Zuko threw up his arms, "It's just hot leaf water! Everybody goes 'ooh' and 'aah' but it is literally just hot juice!" He seemed so genuinely exasperated that Katara couldn't help herself: she burst out laughing.

When she regained her composure enough to focus on him again, Zuko had a strange look on his face.

"What?"

"What?"

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" he scowled.

She sighed, "Nevermind."

Zuko rolled his eyes at that.

Katara rolled hers right back.

"Okay." she took a deep breath, "Say everything you said—which actually isn't all that much—is true. But let's say I believe you. You still haven't answered the one actually important question," here she straightened up as much as she could and did her best to look down at him, "How do I know you aren't a threat to Aang?"

Zuko frowned some more. Opened his mouth, seemed to think better of it. This repeated a few times. Finally, just as her patience was about to snap, he said, "I was." She inhaled sharply, to yell 'I knew it!' but was stopped by his raised hand.

"Let me finish. I was. I didn't even know you were in Ba Sing Se, though. Not until he spread those fliers around." he squinted at her, "You know, the ones with your address on them?"

"Yeah," she rubbed the back of her neck in embarrassment, "I had nothing to do with that."

"Anyhow, I went and found the bison—"

"Wait,  _w_ _hat?_ _"_

He glared at her, "I found the bison. Then Uncle found me." Zuko looked down at the table, "He helped me realize some things, and then... I let him go."

Katara could feel her eyes bulge, "You freed Appa?"

"Yeah," he scowled at her, as if daring her to contradict him, "I did."

" _Y_ _ou_  freed Appa?"

"Yes!" he leaned towards her, "and I haven't actually thought about you people since then! That is until  _you_ _,_ " he jabbed her in the sternum, "showed up, threatening to ruin everything!"

Katara could feel her rage mounting. She smacked his hand away, "Oh!  _E_ _xcuse me_ , your highness! What was I supposed to think? You literally followed us from one Pole to the other! Besides," she crossed her arms, "why should I care about your stupid little new life?"

"I don't care if you care about my stupid little new life!" he raised his hands, " _I_  don't care about my stupid little new life! But you don't get to do that to Uncle!"

Katara deflated a little at that. The old man seemed genuinely happy here, brewing tea. He was kind and had shown that he has his priorities straight, back at the North Pole. She was willing to bet anything that the actual reason he was at all involved in this ridiculous chasing-the-Avatar business was because he loved his nephew. A love that, she was finding easier and easier to believe, was completely mutual.

"How's his injury?" she asked.

"Hmm?" Zuko seemed startled by the abrupt change of subject.

"His injury." she indicated in the general area of her chest. "From when Azula burned him. How is it?"

Zuko winced. "Better. But he...  He pretends that he's as good as new. But I'm not blind and he's not as young as he used to be."

"You should've let me heal him."

The look he gave her when she said that was utterly wretched. "Well... I should've done a lot of things." his eyes became glassy, like he was looking at something a thousand miles away. "So many things."

Before Katara could formulate a sentence, something, anything even remotely comforting, Zuko straightened out and said, "But what's done is done. I've made peace with it. I'm a different person now. So," he stood up, "you can just leave and go back to the Avatar and we can pretend that  _this_ " he gestured between them, "never happened." he pointed to the door.

Katara's eyebrows shot up nearly to her hairline. "You can't be serious."

He scowled, "I just said that I want nothing to do with you. Ever again. Go away and be happy about it."

"Do you actually expect me to believe that you are satisfied living the rest of your life as a tea server?"

His back was ramrod straight and his eyes were steely, "Yes."

"That you are content sitting here while your nation goes down in flames?"

"That's right."

"That you have no problem with the fact that our ultimate goal is to take down your father?"

He stood impossibly straighter and looked down at her, "My real father is right here. He makes tea. He's happy."

Katara backed off a bit at that, but still said, softly, "That you are actually happy never firebending again? Ever?"

At that Zuko blinked, and Katara could see, actually  _see_  as understanding washed over him. She could guess at the sort of thoughts passing through his mind, had had years of entertaining them, back at the South Pole, before everything changed, before she had so much as a speck of hope that she would ever manage to utilize a single drop of her potential, when she spent her time looking at the ocean and knowing,  _knowing_  in the marrow of her bones that it would answer, if only she knew how to call.

 _'B_ _ut this is worse_ _,'_  she thought  _'_ _this is as if being forced to go back to that._ _T_ _his is getting a taste, and then having it all taken..._ _N_ _o, having to push it away yourself_ _.'_

When she returned her focus to the present, Zuko had crumbled. As if he suddenly had the full weight of all the years to come on his shoulders.

"Like I said," he swallowed thickly, "I've made peace with it." He took a shuddering breath, "Now leave. Please."

Katara turned to. There wasn't much of anything to be said to that.  _'Ex_ _cept..._ _E_ _xcept_ _.'_ her hands curled into fists.

She turned back towards him, "You know where we live, right?"

He raised an eyebrow, "Yeah?" he gave her another disapproving look, "It was on the fliers."

Katara rolled her eyes.  _'I_ _can_ _'_ _t believe_ _I'_ _m doing this_ _.'_  "Wait half an hour, then come over."

His eyes widened, then turned suspicious, "...why?"

"Because," she crossed her arms, "There's an inner courtyard. There's a fountain, and it's surrounded by tall windowless walls."

He narrowed his eyes further, "...so?"

" _So,_ " she jabbed him in the chest doing her best to channel Toph's Earth Rumble Six arrogance, "I want a rematch. For the North Pole."

Was he always this expressive? He first looked bewildered, then an impossibly bright smile crossed his face, but before it could sink into Katara's mind enough to cause a disturbance, he frowned.

"I can't in half an hour. I have to go home, I have to let Uncle know, he'd worry otherwise."

An absurd, unprecedented wave of warmth washed over her. Who was this boy? Where did he come from?

"An hour then. I've got time." with that, Katara turned, braid swinging, and left.

* * *

The next hour Katara spent fretting, fidgeting, and questioning her sanity.

 _'Well, he already knew where we live.'_  which did nothing for the fact that  _she had invited him to their house._ _'I could just tell him to go away at the door'_  but, she grimaced, that would be very rude. Not that she owned  _Zuko_  of all people any manners.  _'Still...'_

She was in the middle of trying to figure out if it would be possible for them to 'spontaneously' move during the night when there was a knock at the door.

Katara walked to the it, took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, counted to ten.

The moment she opened the door, Zuko thrust his hands forward. In them was Momo. "You forgot your lemur."

Katara's hands went to her mouth, "Oh, no!" She extended her hands to take him, but Momo seemed to have other ideas. "Oh, Momo! I'm so sorry!" He was on the ceiling now. "It wasn't on purpose, I swear!" Momo merely turned his head with a sniff.

Behind her, Zuko cleared his throat, "Uncle fed him tea cakes, I hope that's okay."

She blinked at him.  _'_ _Prince_ _Zuko_ _of the Fire Nation_ _is worrying about Momo's diet'_  "Um... Yeah, he can eat pretty much anything." She looked down, "What's with the bag?"

"Oh." he looked at it as if seeing it for the first time, "Er. A change of clothes." he shrugged, "Since I figure we're gonna get dirty—" he pinked and his mouth shut so fast his teeth clicked together.

Katara's mouth twitched, "...right. Well," she moved to make room for him. "Come on in."

He just nodded.

"Er."

"Yeah?"

"Where are the others?"

"What?"

"The Avatar? Your brother? The little earthbender girl?"

She had sort of hoped he wouldn't notice.  _'O_ _h_ _,_ _well_ _.'_

"Not here."

"I... See." his face went strangely thoughtful.

Katara snorted, "Just because you seem to have magically became good, doesn't mean I actually trust you now."

"So... In light of that, you invited me into your house... Alone... Without telling anyone..." he trailed off incredulously.

Katara turned towards him sharply. Got in his face, "I can take you. Anywhere. Anywhen." A voice in the back of her head whispered how that sounded far more like a promise than a threat, but she managed to keep her face calm, neutral, as if stating irrefutable fact.

Zuko blinked at her, twice, then said, "Well," his mouth twitched, "we'll see soon enough, won't we?"

She took a step towards him, got further into his space, so close she could see how his left eye had no eyelashes. He held her gaze, then seemed to have remembered something and broke it.

Katara stepped back a little while he rummaged through his pockets.

"Er," he said pulling out a lavishly decorated square of paper, "Uncle sends coupons."

"What?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Coupons. For tea. For you and your friends".

"That's... That's very kind of him," she said plucking them out of his hand. Whatever bubble they had been in a second ago, it had popped now.

"You mentioned an inner courtyard?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah, right this way." she turned to lead him through the house.

The inner courtyard was more of a garden, really. There was a fountain in the center, and a couple of stone benches around it. But there was enough room that they've managed to comfortably use it for training these past few weeks.

"This is it."

"It's... Nice."

Her lips quirked, "Nice?"

Zuko scowled, "Shut up."

They stood shoulder to shoulder for a few moments.

"So..." he started.

"So." she answered.

"How did you imagine this going down?"

"Well," Katara scratched her chin in thought, "do you have any warm ups you do?"

He nodded.

"We could start with that and then..." she shrugged, "I'm sure you'll find a way to annoy me into attacking you."

He gave her an affronted look at that. Still, he walked to one of the benches by the far wall, set his bag down then took off his outer shirt.

With the fountain between them, he sat cross-legged on the ground, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The surrounding lanterns flared for a moment and then settled into flickering in time with his breathing.

Katara watched him for a few seconds, shrugged, then started her warm-up kata.

It was surprisingly easy to slip into a lull of repetitive push and pull, so much so that soon enough Zuko became merely part of the scenery. She didn't even really register when he got up and started his own sets.

But when, facing perpendicularly from her, he thrust his arm in a quick punch and fire came out, it was like her whole world narrowed down only to him.

From her position she could see every muscle in his arm flex as he repeated the motion with his other hand. Then again, faster. And again, even faster. And again. And again until his hands blurred together. All throughout, the flame remained constant in both size and brightness. Finally, he shifted his weight and kicked the fireball upwards where it unfurled like a flower and slowly dissipated.

He turned towards her, the fire danced in his eyes and he looked so  _young_  and  _happy_  that she doubted she would've recognized him if not for the scar—even then.

They stood like that, just looking at one another until Zuko turned the rest of the way and crouched into a ready stance. He smirked.

Katara blinked. Once. Twice. Then, comprehension spreading through her, crouched down, raised her arms and smirked right back.

For a breath neither of them moved. They were sizing each other up.

Almost unperceptively, Zuko shifted forward. Katara felt for the water in the fountain and pulled.

Half of the stream collided with fire and turned into steam while the other settled over her arms and shoulders like a cloak, like armor.

Out of the steam cloud fireballs came hurling towards her, Zuko following barely a moment later. The fountain was still between them so Katara just summoned more water from it to form an ice wall. It lasted a grand total of two and a half seconds under Zuko's onslaught. That was enough. The moment he came through, she reformed the steam in the air, wrapped it around his waist and hurled him backwards into the wall. Upon collision, his breath left him in a pained grunt.

He slid down, "Ow."

"What's the matter Zuko? Are you that out of shape?" she didn't even try to cover up the smugness in her voice.

Zuko shot her an angry look. He was on his hands and knees, his face was red and his bangs were sticking to his forehead. Katara felt a tug inside that she couldn't explain.

"You couldn't do that before." he sounded positively offended.

Katara could feel herself beaming at that, "Well, I wasn't a Master before."

Zuko's eyes widened, then he frowned and muttered, "Of course you are."

She scowled, "What was that?"

He sighed, "Nothing." got up, settled into an offensive stance, "Again."

Katara needn't have to be told twice.

It lasted a good long while, the fighting, hours possibly. He'd try to get close, break her stance, but sooner or later Katara would use the fountain to send him backwards. Still, every time he'd get closer than before, just a little bit, just enough for her to need to put more and more effort into fending him off.

When she sent a rain of icicles towards him, he ducked out of the way then threw a couple of fire-punches at her. She neutralized them with a water whip. For the split second her attention was on that, Zuko had already decreased the distance between them by a third, keeping to the wall, as far away from the fountain as he can. She sent a whip to push him back again, he dodged. Now the distance was half, she moved the water into a ring around him, to attack from all sides, but he jumped over it, landing on a bench, and using it as leverage, kicked a crescent of flame her way.

Katara rolled out of the way, at last losing her position. She moved towards the center of the courtyard, towards the source of water. He threw punch after punch at her, not allowing her to regain her stance, forcing her to defend. Still, Katara couldn't help but feel like something was... off. The fire was relentless, yes, but every burst she easily extinguished. She knew Zuko could do a lot,  _a lot_ bigger.

 _'H_ _e's planing something... but what?_ _'_ the backs of her knees bumped into the edge of the fountain. She deflected another burst of fire. And another.

 _'A_ _ll he's doing is making steam.._ _B_ _ut there's not nearly enough to reduce visibility_ _.'_  another fireball came hurling towards her face. She extinguished it. Climbed into the fountain.

 _'E_ _specially with the_ _—_ _'_  her eyes widened in realization.

Too late.

Every single lantern in the garden fizzled out simultaneously and after all that fire in her face, Katara's world plunged into utter blackness.

She moved to the side, the water around her splashing.

' _D_ _amn_ _!_ _D_ _amn!_ _'_  she started to raise an ice wall to shield herself but around the point it reached her knees, Zuko came hurling out of the darkness and tackled her to the ground. As a last ditch effort, she lifted her arms to form a water whip, got as far as getting the water in the air when Zuko grabbed her by the wrists and pinned her arms down. For a moment, she was in another fight, with the same but oh-so-different boy and she felt the first tendrils of fear wrapping around her—then the water fell down on his head. His eyes widened so much Katara thought they were gonna pop out.

Katara bit her lip to keep her giggles in. He sputtered.

"Pfft—"

"You think this is funny?" he all but growled.

She shook her head no, once, twice, looked back up at him, was reminded of a wet cat, promptly gave up and started laughing for real.

Zuko scowled at her, started to say something. She never found out what, though, because at that moment a drop of water rolled off of the tip off his nose and fell into her mouth.

There was a beat of silence then, "Eeeeeewww!" she spat to the side while Zuko started laughing so hard he just skipped the laughter part and went straight into wheezing.

"This isn't funny Zuko!" she tried to wipe her mouth on her sleeve, "Get off! Gross!"

"Hey, you are the one who got me wet!" he barely managed to say.

"Yeah, with normal water! Not gross boy-sweat-water! Ugh!" she spat again.

"How is boy-sweat any different from girl-sweat?"

Katara rolled her eyes, "Everybody knows that boy-sweat is way worse! I have a lifetime of experience!"

"Just because your brother doesn't bathe as often as he should doesn't mean all boys don't!" he sounded offended.

"There isn't a boy in the world that bathes as often as he should." her voice was very matter-of-fact.

Zuko stared at her in disbelief for a moment, then smirked.

Katara narrowed her eyes, "Don't you dare!" He just smirked wider. "Zuko! I am serious, I will destroy y—!"

Zuko started shaking his head, sending drops of gross boy-sweat-water all over her face and neck.

"No! Zuko!" Katara squealed, "Stop! I mean it."

He shook his head for a few more times then stopped.

"You are so dead." she growled.

"Sure," he looked smug, "I won though."

"No you didn't!" she shouted.

"Yes I did."

"No you didn't! This is a draw!"

His grip on her wrists tightened, "How is this possibly a draw?"

"Because," she said, "to do anything you have to let go of my arms. And then you're dead."

"Hmm. Except..."

"Except what?"

He took a breath and let out the tiniest little flame she ever saw.

Katara quirked an eyebrow, "Was that supposed to intimidate me or something?"

Zuko rolled his eyes.

"It was supposed to demonstrate that  _I_  still have something I can do, while  _you_  don't."

Hearing that, Katara became acutely aware of the fact that there was a boy, a not yet fully trusted boy, pinning her down.

Zuko seemed to have come to the same conclusion, because, next thing she knew he had gotten up, all the way to his feet and was taking a step back, then a second.

Then he tried for a third, but tripped over the edge of the fountain and fell backwards into it.

Katara didn't even try to contain herself this time. She laughed and laughed and—got smacked in the face by wet cloth.

When she peeled it off of her eyes, Zuko was sitting in the fountain, shirtless.

"Did... Did you just throw your shirt at me?"

He looked at her, looked at the shirt that had landed on her lap, down at his own bare chest, then back at her.

"No." his face was entirely serious.

She blinked at him incredulously a few times. "Oh? Well who did then?"

"A pink fairy platypus-bear."

Her mind stuttered.

Zuko's lips were a thin line. His eyes were crinkling, "Pfff—"

She cowered her mouth with her hands, trying to stifle her giggles.

His shoulders started shaking, "Bpt—"

Katara buried her face between her knees.

Zuko seemed to gave up on containing himself, "Hahahaha! Your face!"

She looked up sharply, " _E_ _xcuse me?_ "

"It's just," he laughed, "you looked so sho—" he laughed some more, "so shocked!"

It struck her then that Zuko, this Zuko, new and improved and  _young_  and  _happy_ , was frighteningly easy to like.

"What?"

"What?"

"You were staring"

She could feel her face burn, "No I wasn't!"

"Yes. yes you were!"

Katara scowled and bended the fountain water onto his head.

He's only reaction was to cross his arms, "Nice try but I can't get any wetter."

She stuck her tongue out at him.

Zuko rolled his eyes, "I always thought that you were the most mature of your little group. Guess I was wrong."

Katara looked down, "You weren't." His shirt was still in her lap.

"Could've fooled me."

"Yeah, well," her hands fisted in the fabric, "you don't actually need me to keep you down to earth. I can get away with it."

Before he could say anything else, Katara extended her hands towards him in a grabbing motion. He seemed confused.

"What, you can knock me down and throw stuff at me, but you can't help me up?" he blinked a few times while he processed what she said, then snorted.

"I'm sitting too."

"So get up."

" _Y_ _ou_  get up."

" _I_ _'m_  not the one sitting in a fountain," her eyes darted downwards, "shirtless. Aren't you cold?"

He scowled, "No."

It was her turn to snort, "You're not an airbender Zuko. You can't  _breathe_  yourself warm."

"I can too!"

"Yeah, right."

"What do you think I did at the North Pole?"

"Honestly?" Katara asked, "I thought that your rage kept you going."

He opened his mouth to retort. Closed it.

"What?" she said.

"Nothing."

Katara sighed. She pushed herself up, made those two steps to the fountain.

"Zuko."

He wouldn't look at her.

Katara extended her arm. After a beat, he took it. His skin was chilly where they touched.

"I won't push." their eyes met for a second. "But if you want to tell me, I'll listen."

He seemed to be looking at something far past her. "It just... It feels so long ago. The North Pole." He seemed to focus on her again. "It was all so different.  _I_  was so different."

Katara realized that their hands were joined still when he tightened his fingers around hers. She squeezed back. "There's nothing wrong with change. In fact," she smiled tentatively, "change can be good."

Zuko snorted, "Spoken like a true waterbender."

She felt like they had stepped into a world of their own, like they were building up to something.

"Speaking of," then it was gone, "Want me to dry you off?"

He raised an eyebrow.

Katara let go of his hand and pulled the water out, first from his shirt, then her own clothes then not actually waiting for a response, repeated the motion with Zuko. When she looked at him she nearly fell over with laughter.

"What now?" he sighed.

"Your—hahaha—your hair." she pointed at him. He lifted his hands in an effort to smooth it down,  but failed.

"Here," she reached out, laughing, "let me."

Zuko let her.

They were so close, their chests were nearly touching. His hair was a lot softer then she imagined. She raked her hands through it.

In the moonlight his eyes were silver.

 _'H_ _e could kiss me._ _'_  She realized with a start. Her fingers stilled. _'H_ _e could kiss me..._ _A_ _nd_ _I_ _would let him._ _'_

"There..." she swallowed.

He followed the movement of her mouth, then met her gaze again. "Thanks." His voice was huskier than usual.

 _'I_ _can't make the firs_ _t_ _move, not after everything,_ _I_ _just can't._ _'_  It occurred to her that he has far more reason to think the same thing.

So, she lifted herself onto her tiptoes, tilted her head just  _so_  and leaned forward, until her lips met his.

Zuko inhaled sharply through his nose, but otherwise didn't move.

When he still didn't react a few moments later, Katara backed off. "Um," her face heated, "uh, that..." She looked everywhere but at him.  _'N_ _o._ _I_ _won't be embarrassed._ _Not with him.'_  She squared her shoulders. Looked him in the eye. "I'm sorry. I obviously misread the mood." She took another step back, "I'll jus—"

"Would you do it again?"

She stopped. "What?" It came out in far higher a pitch then she would've liked.

"Would you kiss me again?" he was looking at their feet.

"Well," she frowned, "you obviously didn't like it."

The blush that all but exploded over his face was spectacular. "That's not—" he covered his face with his hands then mumbled something.

"What was that?" She leaned towards him.

He peeked at her through his fingers, "I just didn’t think it was something that you could want… From me."

"Oh."

He went back to hiding behind his hands. "Yeah."

“Well, then no.” His shoulders slumped, but she wasn’t done. “I would kiss you  _back,_  though."

He looked up at her sharply, making her smirk. "That wasn't very nice."

She rolled her eyes. "You gonna do it or not?" She hoped she wasn't blushing.

He straightened up, took a deep breath. He looked so serious.

"Pff—"

His face flashed through emotions so fast she could barely catalogue them: hurt, betrayal, anger—

"Zuko." she grabbed his hand. "Not like that." intertwined their fingers. "You just looked like you were preparing for a fight." brought them to her. "It's not a fight, Zuko." kissed his first knuckle. His breath hitched. "It's supposed to be fun." she kissed the next one. "Kissing." the third. "Okay?" the last one, then she gently lowered their hands. He followed them with his eyes. They stood like that for a few seconds.

Zuko then untangled their fingers, but kept a hold on her hand. He lifted it, oh so slowly, and placed it on his chest. The bare skin was cold under her fingers.

He reached for her other hand, pried his shirt from it then brought it up to his mouth. He kissed her palm.

At the sound of Katara's breath stuttering he found her eyes. Kissed her thumb. Then her pointer finger. Then middle. Katara could feel heat gathering in her body more and more with each one. Finally, he gave her littlest finger a light nip. His eyes never left hers. She swallowed.  He let go of her hand, it settled on his other shoulder, then followed the line of her arm, touch as light as a ghost's. Soon enough, he reached the hem of her shirt, and stopped just on the other side of it, in the dip above her clavicle. His fingers were still cold.

She could feel the weight of his other hand settling on her hip. This time, when he straightened up and took a deep breath Katara didn't find it funny at all.

Zuko leaned towards her until she could feel his breath on her lips. "Still gonna kiss me back?"

She nodded, her eyes fluttering closed.

His lips were chapped, but gentle, oh so gentle and the whole thing reminded her of the way honey oozed. Sweet and slow. Golden.

Katara tangled her hands in his hair and pulled him closer. That seemed to do away with his hesitation.

The hand on her hip snaked upwards and wrapped itself around her waist, the one on her shoulder buried itself in the hair at the nape of her neck. Katara exhaled through her nose, felt the way her body came loose, tried to mold itself to him.

When they came apart, and she cracked her eyes open, Zuko looked dazed. His face was flushed, his eyes were half-lidded and he was smiling.

So she kissed him again, just a peck. She could feel his smile widen. She did it again. And again. Then once more. She leaned in for another, but when she tried to move back, his grip on her tightened, the hand in her hair holding her close.

He slanted his face just a little, and deepened the kiss. She sighed at that, repositioned her hands so that one was tangled in the hair at his nape and the other cupped his cheek.

Zuko sucked in a sharp breath then went still.

"Hm?" Katara blinked a few times until he came back into focus. He looked like a trapped animal.

"Zuko?" she started tracing circles on the skin of his cheek, but if at all possible that made him go even more rigid. "What's wrong?"

She searched his face while marveling at the difference of texture when her fingers passed over the border of his scar.

 _'_ _Oh.'_  Her hand stilled.

"Oh."

He swallowed. made no other movement, like he expected her to recoil in disgust and bolt.

Katara did the only thing she could think of at the moment. She raised onto her tiptoes and kissed him, upper lip on his scar, lower on unblemished skin. She kept the contact feather light and made it last a few seconds.

When she came back to her feet, his eyes were wide and disbelieving but he didn't move a muscle. She wasn't sure he was even breathing.

With a shrug, she brought her other hand to his left cheek and kissed him again, this time fully on the scarred skin.

It was as if she burst a dam open.

He stepped forward, into her, brought her as close as possible, literally lifting her off of her feet, her head sipped forward so that they were cheek to ruined cheek, his breathing ragged in her ear. It was as if he was trying to consume her through his skin. Her arms were at an awkward angle, trapped between them.

"Zuko?" her lips brushed his mangled ear. He shivered.

"Put me down Zuko."

He tightened his hold, "Can't we just..."

"I'm not telling you to let go, I just don't like dangling like this." she swung her feet a bit to prove her point.

A laugh tickled her ear, but he lowered them just enough that her feet could be firmly planted.

"This is really uncomfortable."

It was her turn to laugh.

"Sit down."

"Hm?"

"Sit down, the fountain is right behind you."

He did. However, that left her in a very uncomfortable half-crouch. So he slid down to the ground, the edge of the fountain to his back. Katara between his legs, her arms resettling around his neck.

A minute or so later, when neither of them had spoken or moved, Katara started absently playing with his hair. Zuko gave a content sigh, nuzzled into the crook of her neck.

They stayed like that for some time, Zuko clinging to her as if for dear life, her tracing meaningless patterns into his scalp.

"What now?" he mumbled into her skin. Katara hummed in question.

He lifted his face a bit, thinking she hadn't heard him, "What do we do now?"

Katara leaned back, slid her hands so that they cupped his face. He leaned into her touch.

"What do you want to do?" she asked.

"I... " a blush spread from his neck to his hairline. "I rather liked that kiss?" It came out as a question.

"Hmm... This one?" She leaned forward and kissed his scar.

"Well, yeah, but that's not the one i meant."

"This one maybe?" Now she kissed the border between rough and smooth skin.

"That one too." She could hear the smile in his voice. "But I didn't mean that one either."

"How about this one?" Her lips landed on the corner of his mouth.

He turned his head so that their breath mingled now. "You've never kissed me like that before."

"So you didn't like it then?" She said with feigned affront.

"I think," she could feel him talking more than actually hear, "we can safely say that you couldn't find a way to kiss me that I wouldn't like."

She started to giggle, but was cut off by his lips on hers. It was meek, he was letting her set the pace. So, she darted out her tongue, licked the seam of his mouth. He sighed at that, lifted one arm to her neck, used the other to bring her closer.

It was awkward, with her sitting on her legs, so she raised herself onto her knees. The new angle allowed her to deepen the kiss. At that point, it became like a continuation of their previous sparring and Zuko matched her move for move: when she sneaked her tongue to his teeth, he sucked, when she groaned in response, he nipped at her bottom lip.

At some point the hand on her waist slid down, past her hip, and raised her by the thigh so he could slip one leg between hers. She lifted her other on her own and a heartbeat later she was straddling him. Zuko gave a breathy sigh at the increased contact. The hand on her neck climbed into her hair, came up to her bun, the one on her waist caught the end of her braid.

He tugged lightly at the ties. Katara nodded. The tie on her braid came off easily, but he didn't seem to know what to do with the bun. When she laughed, he made a face so petulant and childish that she could only laugh harder. Still, she reached up to guide his fingers through the process. When they pulled out all the pins, she leaned back to shake out her hair.

Zuko seemed to take that as an invitation. He started at her chin and slowly trailed feather-light kisses, first along her jaw, then down her neck. When he reached edge of her collar, right above it, he sucked. Katara moaned. That encouraged him, made him bolder. He switched to the other side of her, this time making his way up. This time using his teeth.

One of his hands snaked down to her thigh where he started to rub tiny circles with his thumb. At that Katara heaved herself forward, forcing his back into the fountain edge, trying to get as close as possible. Zuko made a sound that was nearly a whine at their new position.

At first she thought that she was hurting him, wiggled a bit to try and get a better look at him, but he moaned, brought both hands to her hips and held her still.

That was when she realized just how close they were. How her skirt had bunched up, how he never put his shirt back on. How it wasn't just cloth she could feel between her thighs.

Hot knots formed in her abdomen and Katara looked back up at him. His cheeks were flushed, he was panting and, again, he looked as if waiting for her to reject him, to scramble away. She wondered if he knew just how much she felt the need to prove that look wrong.

Her hands went to his chest, trailed down, then back up. She felt him shiver under her touch, watched his eyes flutter closed, then, as if her heart wasn't actually in her throat, she rolled her hips.

His reaction was...  _F_ _ascinating_. His eyes flew open, he surged forward and actually  _growled_  in her ear.

So, Katara did it again. This time, he let out a moan, tried to move further to her, to curl himself around her.

The fingers on her hips dug in, went white, held fast. She wiggled.

"Stop." His voice was hoarse.

When he cleared his throat, she felt it through his chest. "Stop," he said again.

She stopped moving her hips, but at the same time resumed trailing her fingers over his chest.

"Katara." That made her go completely still. He'd never said her name before, and no one had ever said it quite like  _that_.

She pushed at his chest until he was far enough away for her to look at him.  He was scowling. Terribly.

"That bad, huh?" she tried to keep her voice light.

"What?" his features rearranged themselves into confusion.

She trailed a finger from his hairline to the root of his nose," You were frowning."

His mouth worked silently for a few moments, then he seemed to give up. He lowered his head into the crook of her neck and sighed. "That's not it." His breath heated her skin, even with the collar in the way.

"Oh?" she exhaled.

"It's just..." he drummed his fingers on her hips.

"Too much, too fast?"

He said nothing in response.

"Zuko?" she tugged on his hair, trying to make him look at her. Instead he burrowed his head deeper, managed to move the cloth with his nose so that now they were skin to skin.

Katara sighed, "Zuko." She went back to playing with his hair, "Nobody is going to force you into anything." She let her hand trail down the curve of his spine, "Me least of all." kissed his temple, "It's supposed to be fun, remember?"

When he didn't respond, Katara closed her eyes and focused on the way his breath felt on her neck, syncing her breathing to it: inhale, exhale.

She lost her rhythm, when his lips came down to her skin. Threw her head back when he licked his way up. Let out a choked, breathy sound when he sucked at the skin right under her jaw. And when he tugged her face back towards him, when he took her bottom lip between his teeth, Katara felt it all the way down to her toes.

The kiss lasted just long enough to leave her breathless, then Zuko made his way down again, kissing, licking, sucking and occasionally biting, until the edge of her clothes. He gave her a questioning look.

Katara swallowed thickly, then, keeping eye contact and before she could change her mind, undid her sash and threw it to the side. She removed the robe just as quickly. Once her hands grabbed the edge of her sarashi though, she hesitated.

"Hey." Zuko's voice sounded like he hadn't used it in years. "Hey," his hands covered hers, "like you said, we're not gonna do anything that you don't want." He gave her an uncertain smile, "It's supposed to be fun, right?"

Katara felt a surge of entirely unbidden, completely unexpected, but none the less very real affection for this familiar, strange,  _changed_  boy. So she grabbed his face and tried to pour it all into a kiss.

When they parted, Zuko's lips were bruised-red and his eyes half-lidded. She wanted to kiss him again. Instead, she guided his hands to her chest. She saw the way his throat bobbed when he swallowed, the way his hands trembled when he tugged at the cloth. When he started unwrapping the fabric, she found it easier to focus on his face, the way he bit his lip, the way his gaze was intent, focused, like he was doing something that required his full attention.

When the last of her sarashi came loose, she closed her eyes and leaned back, her hands on the ground besides his legs. It probably wasn't fair to Zuko, to deny him any indication of what to do next, but at the moment Katara didn't care. She was tired of being the one to lead.

For a while there was only the sound of their breathing. She curled her fingers in the grass.

Just as her patience was running out, she felt him place a finger on the tip of her clavicle. It made her stop breathing. So lightly she wasn't even sure he was actually doing it, he traced down her sternum, stopping at it's end, between her breasts. Her eyes fluttered open. She expected him to be looking down, at where his hand was.

Instead, his eyes were set on her face, watching out for even the most minute change in expression. She felt her face heat from the intensity of it.

His finger moved, grazed the underside of her right breast, then went up. She inhaled sharply. His eyes wouldn't leave hers. He was making circles now, each one smaller then the last. Katara held her breath in anticipation. When his finger finally,  _finally_  reached her nipple she let it out as a sigh and closed her eyes again.

His pointer finger was replaced with his thumb while the rest of his fingers splayed themselves over her breast. She leaned forward, so that now instead of in grass her hands were fisted in the fabric of his pants. Zuko's breath hitched. Katara realized that her hands were dangerously close to his crotch.

Before she could act on any of her half-formed ideas, the hand on her breast resumed its previous motion while Zuko placed the other one on the small of her back and pulled her closer.

She wanted to protest, but then he kissed her chest, above her heart, and all she could let out was a moan. Her hands flew to his hair, held on, as if for dear life.

Simultaneously he drummed his fingers up her spine and trailed his lips down her left breast. It made her head fall back, her back arch and her hips snap forward. Zuko gasped. Katara could feel him, hard and hot through their clothes. His left hand came down to steady her, while his mouth closed over her nipple. He sucked. Katara keened in response, pulled at his hair, hard.

"Ow."

She disentangled her hands instantaneously, "Sorry!" They hovered uselessly now, she didn't know what to do with them.

"No, no." He took her by the wrists, "It's fine," led her back to his scalp, "just don't pull so hard."

Katara swallowed, "Right."

They looked at each other for a heartbeat or two, then Zuko's eyes fell to her chest. He snorted.

Katara raised an eyebrow, "Something funny?"

He looked back to her face, "Just..." his thumb came up to where his mouth was a moment ago and rubbed, making her breath leave in a rush, "You said that you don't want my spit anywhere near you, is all."

Katara blinked, once, twice. Then, groaning, she pushed at his face and moved as if to get up.

"What? Hey!" the hand around her tightened.

"Nope." she pushed again, but with little force, "You've ruined the mood, no recovering from that."

"Oh, come on!" he lifted his knees so she slid forward and was now sitting on his hips, "I was just teasing." He placed his chin on her sternum.

"Hmm." She peered at him through narrowed eyes. He gave her a hesitant smile, rubbed tiny circles with his thumbs into her skin.

Katara let him sweat for a beat, then smiled back. She pushed his hair out of his face, then buried one hand at the nape of his neck and trailed the other downwards, making sure to follow the edge of his scar.  He leaned into her touch, but she moved further, settling her fingers on his throat, felt him swallow.

She lifted herself up, stilled until he met her gaze in question then pressed down into him. He gasped and his eyes fell shut.

Katara pulled his head back, replaced the fingers on his throat with her lips. She kissed, she sucked, she brought out her teeth, tried to remember all the things he had done that made heat pool in her abdomen, all the while rocking her hips. Zuko for his part held onto her like his life depended on it while his breath came in pants, occasionally broken up with strangled moans and, once or twice, something rougher.

When she latched onto a particular spot near his jaw, he dug his fingers into her skin and bucked his hips to meet hers. She brought her hand to cup his ruined cheek, to steady his head.  _That_  got her a near whine.

"Katara." Oh, how she liked the way he said her name. "Katara, stop moving, I'm gonna—" he cut himself off with a groan when she placed a kiss to his mangled ear, in time with the snap of her hips.

"Kat—"

"It's okay, Zuko." She whispered in his ear, "I want you to feel good."

That seemed to finally convince him. He buried his head in the crook of her neck, pulled her as close as possible and ground his hips into hers. Katara pressed back as hard as she could, kissed everywhere she could reach.

In the end, what seemed to give him that final push over the edge was when her lips found their way to the border of his scar, one lip on rough skin, the other on smooth. His breath hitched, his hips stuttered then he let out a moan and went completely still.

Once he seemed to remember how to breathe, he loosened his hold just enough for her to lean back to see his face. The content, dreamy look he wore made her extremely, uncomfortably aware of the arousal coiled in her belly. She bit her lip. His eyes seemed to zero in on the action. His gaze turned intent.

Zuko placed his thumb at the corner of her mouth and when it parted in a sigh, traced her bottom lip. From the other corner he trailed downward, over her chin, her neck, down her chest and abdomen until he reached the hem of her trousers. He hooked his thumb in.

Katara sucked in a sharp breath, covered his hand with hers, " You don't hav—"

"I want you to feel good, too!" it came out in a rush and when she looked up at him, his face was scarlet. "It wouldn't be fair," he swallowed, "if, um, if I'm the only one who gets to... um. If I'm the only one." he peered at her through the fringe of his hair.

"Oh." she could feel how her face burned, but that did nothing to stop the way her insides curled. She released his hand, nodded.

Zuko let out a breath, wiggled his fingers past the hem, stopped. "Uh..."

"What?" she squeaked.

"No, it's just," he pulled his hand out, "maybe you should turn around?"

Katara only blinked at him in confusion. He looked away, "The angle is weird. I can't move all that well." She didn't know anyone could blush that much without exploding.

"Oh. Oh! Um. Right, let me just..." she got off of him and he opened his legs to that she could now settle between them, her back to his chest, her hands on his knees.

Zuko's arms passed under hers, one settled on her ribs, brushing the underside of her breast while the other came down to the edge of her pants.

His breath was hot in her ear but the spots where his fingers rested on her flesh were on fire.

When his fingers edged under the fabric, Katara went perfectly still, "You're gonna have to," she felt him take a deep breath, "I've never done this before. You're gonna have to let me know if I'm doing it right."

"Okay." she could barely whisper, nodding.

She was so focused on where his fingers disappeared under cloth, that when his other hand cupped her breast, she all but jumped out of her skin.

"Easy." he breathed into her ear.

"Oh, shut u—" her retort dissolved into a groan when he kissed right under her ear.

He trailed his lips downwards, pausing occasionally to suck or nip at the skin. It made each of her breaths shorter than the last. The hand on her breast kneaded, then tweaked her nipple. She let out a strangled moan and curled her fingers in the fabric over his knees.

By the time his mouth reached the juncture of her neck and shoulder, Katara was outright panting. Her hips were wiggling against nothing, desperate for any kind of friction. Since it seemed that even that was not enough to clue Zuko in, she grabbed the hand on her navel and tugged it downwards. His breath hitched and he stilled.

Katara tugged again. That seemed to snap him out of whatever reverie he was in and ever so slowly, he pushed his hand further down her pants. She held her breath. Once his fingers reached coarse hair, it came out in a sigh.

The hair seemed to fascinate him. He passed his fingers through it, once, twice, scratched at the skin there. Then, as she made fists in apprehension, he trailed the path of it down, all the way to her wet entrance. Katara gasped. He rubbed at the slickness, spread it around. Then he pushed a finger in and she lolled her head forward, groaning.

He pushed further, until his palm was flush against her, the heel of it pressing against her clit. She dug her fingers into his leg. That seemed to remind Zuko that he had more than just one hand. He brushed her hair over her shoulder, kissed the back of her neck, moved his fingers to stroke her breast, one, then the other, while the hand between her legs fell into a rhythm, in, out. Sensing he could, he added another finger. Her insides clenched around him. "Wow." he choked out into her ear, and Katara wished dearly she could see his face.

They stayed like that for a while, Zuko pushing and pulling and kissing while she panted and writhed. Katara could feel the heat coiling itself in her abdomen, tighter and tighter, could feel herself getting closer to that release, but it wasn't enough. She let go of his leg, reached down, determined to help herself along, but was stopped by his hand over hers.

"Let me," his voice was strangled, "let me, I want to be the one," he swallowed, "I want to be the one to make you feel good." He squeezed her fingers, "Show me how."

Katara gave a shaky breath and nodded. She led their hands down, placed his fingers where she wanted them most, groaned once he pushed down experimentally. "Tell me how." he said again.

It came out as a series of commands: softer, faster, now harder, yes,  _yes_  just like that, don't stop, don't stop,  _please_  don't stop, until white heat ran through every single nerve and all she could let out was a moan that may have started as his name.

* * *

When her hips stilled, Zuko pulled his hands back out. His fingers were covered with clear, sticky fluid. Katara blushed. Before she could even begin to figure out what to tell him to do with them, he brought them up, over her shoulder, and into his mouth. She could hear him licking and sucking. Despite her utter exhaustion, she felt the arousal rising again, her mind spiraling, wondering what else would he be willing to lick, already imagining how his head would look between her thighs.

Katara sighed and leaned back into him. She looked upward.

"Sun's nearly up."

" Hmm?" She pointed upwards, at the sky. The stars were already all gone, and it was turning dawn-gray to the east. Zuko craned his neck to follow her finger. His hands fell to the sides.

For a few moments, they sat perfectly still, realizing at the same time that reality was closing in.

Katara turned towards him, "What now?" she asked.

Zuko met her eyes, "I should," he looked uncertain, "I should probably head home."

She scowled, "That's it?"

He opened his mouth, closed it, finally, "I don't know."

Her anger evaporated before if could fully take root, "Well, I don't know either."

Zuko raised his hands, they hovered for a beat, then he made up his mind and pulled her in for a hug. She burrowed her face into his neck and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"For what it's worth," his hands trailed over her back, "I really had fun tonight."

Katara huffed out a laugh but it was short-lived. She could feel tears prickling her eyes.

"Hey, come on," he squeezed her tight, "we'll figure something out."

She was silent for a few seconds, then, "Aang needs a firebending teacher."

His hands went still, then he pushed her away by the shoulders, "No."

Her rage was rushing back now, "Why not?" she shouted.

"Because—!" he stopped.

"Because what, Zuko?"  she shrugged his hands off, "you're happy here, where there is no war?" crossed her arms, "Because guess what?" she leaned towards him, "The war is here! Just as it is everywhere else! Just like it's been for the past hundred years!"  she was yelling, "And I am giving  _you_ " she jabbed him, "a chance to be the first of your family in those hundred years to do something to stop it."

Zuko looked like he was ready to shout back then he deflated and merely looked incredibly, impossibly sad. His hand reached out, brushed her cheek, "I'm sorry." she hadn't realized that she was crying.

"Just..." her hand covered his but didn't push him away, " It's not fair, for you to get to hide from all of this."

He pulled his arm back, stood up. He extended his hand, "I'm not."

She stared at him for a beat then took it. He pulled her up, squeezed her fingers. His eyes were somewhere on the middle distance then they focused on hers, "I have to think about it." Katara gathered breath to argue, "and I need to talk to Uncle. It's not a decision I can make without consulting him first." Her mouth shut with a click.

"Good." she said after a moment, "That's... Good."

For a beat or two, they stood like that, meeting each-others eyes then looking away.

"Right." Zuko cleared his throat, "uh, I really did mean it when I said that I should get going." He bent down to get his shirt, "It really wouldn't look good if anyone caught me leaving here in the morning."

Katara blushed, "Er, right." She followed his lead and grabbed her robe. "If you want to change, there's—"

"No!" he exclaimed with far more force than necessary, "No, I really should just hurry." he stepped into the house, Katara right behind him.

When they got to the door, they turned to face one another, but couldn't seem to meet each others eyes.

"Well..." he started. His ears were pink.

Katara climbed onto her tiptoes and kissed him, "I have some errands during the day," she said, her mouth an inch from his, "but after, after I could come by the tea shop. Then we could talk?" that last one came out as a question.

"Um, yeah, talk..." the blush had spread from his hairline to his neck, "Talking sounds good! Let's... Let's do that." he seemed to trail off.

Katara merely snorted, opening the door, "Goodnight Zuko, or," she looked up, "good morning, I guess." She gently nudged him out, "I'll see you soon, okay?"

Zuko gave her a smile, the genuine, happy kind. "Right, soon. Goodnight." he said and stepped out into the gray light of dawn.

Once he was gone, Katara shut the door and leaned on it, then slid down. She buried her head in her hands and giggled for a good long while.

**Author's Note:**

> cross-posted to tumblr, here: https://cincincilin.tumblr.com/post/162691015839/bonus-day-tea-shop


End file.
